


Let's Fight (This Feeling)

by misbegotten



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-16
Updated: 2010-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-07 08:03:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The angel looks somewhat anxious, though Dean thinks he's beginning to be able to distinguish between "Oh crap, there's Lucifer" anxious and "I got chocolate on my trenchcoat" anxious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Fight (This Feeling)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the crack prompt: Cas fixes it so the Impala only plays sappy love songs. He then confesses they were for Sam. Added points if you work in some Taylor Swift there.

It's a bright and shining day -- well, as bright and shining as any day can be with the prospect of Apocalyptamania -- and Dean is jonesing for the open road. "Hurry up, Sammy!" he calls to his brother, who is still fiddling with his iPod cords or some shit and won't get in the damned car. Dean switches on the radio to blast a few encouraging tunes, but to his horror the kick-ass hard rock station he found last night seems to have succumbed to Valentine's Day fever.

"I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore?" He fights a little nausea (because damn, that song just gets in your head) and pops in a tape instead.

Sam is folding himself into the passenger's seat when the music starts. "Dude, you trying to tell me something?"

Dean nearly sprains his finger trying to eject the tape. How the hell did his Metallica tape turn into "I'll Never Break Your Heart"?

"Oh Sammy, this is so not funny. Touching a man's audio collection is worse than diddling his sister."

Sam huffs. "You don't have a sister, dumbass, and she'd be my sister too. I didn't mess with your tape."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

A whumpf of air in the backseat announces Castiel's arrival.

"Did too," Dean says again -- take that, Stanford boy -- and roars out of the parking lot. "What's up, Cas?"

The angel looks somewhat anxious, though Dean thinks he's beginning to be able to distinguish between "Oh crap, there's Lucifer" anxious and "I got chocolate on my trenchcoat" anxious. This look is somewhere near the "My tie continues its evil plot to remain askew" range of emotions.

"I was just... around," Castiel says vaguely, and both brothers raise eyebrows at that. Cas isn't much for hanging out, though Dean has noticed that he's been spending more time helping them research hunts than doling out cryptic warnings of Dire Things To Come.

Twenty miles of pavement later and Dean's getting antsy without white noise -- not to mention the three-way staring contest going on in the rear-view mirror is fucking annoying -- and he switches the radio on again.

_Walking the streets with you and your worn-out jeans, I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be._

"Gah!" he exclaims in disgust, and changes the station.

_Laughing on a park bench, thinking to myself, Hey, isn't this easy?_

What the hell? Dean rotates the dial.

_And you've got a smile that could light up this whole town._

Sam is drumming his fingers along to the tune, which only confirms Dean's suspicions that it's crap.

_I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down._

Every. Fucking. Station.

Then, to Dean's astonishment, he spies Castiel in the backseat mouthing along with the words. There's an angel serenading him and he seems to think pretty emphatically that "You belong with me."

"Cas," Dean says slowly. "Do you have something to do with my car turning into the stereo of Satan?"

Castiel looks slightly alarmed. "I don't sense Lucifer's presence in the car, Dean."

Sam, damn him, looks amused. "Why do birds suddenly appear?" he whispers to Dean and elbows him.

Castiel brightens. "Oh yes, I liked that song too but you seemed to prefer more contemporary music."

Dean feels the beginnings of a grin. Not just a little grin. A shit-eating, brother-besting, evil grin. "'You' as in Sammy? Did you pick some Valentine tunes for Sam?"

Sam looks less amused and more horrified.

Castiel puts a hand on the back of Sam's seat. "Will you be my Valentine, Samuel?"

Before Dean can interject something five parts hee-haw and one part letting Cas down easy, Sam turns to him and says, "Did you bring chocolate too?"


End file.
